Confessions
by twilight-my-dreams
Summary: A young girl struggles to straighten our her feelings for another boy who she barely ever sees.
1. In my head

January 26th, 2010

In my head, you're all I ever wanted. You are beautiful, muscular, and just the right amount of sweet nerdiness and fun outgoingness. Your smile makes my heart melt and the way your blue eyes sparkle makes a tremor run down my spine and goosebumps rise all over me.

In my head, you never stutter. The perfect words to say roll off your tongue as smoothly as raindrops down the window. Everything you say makes me laugh. You look at me so surely, never embarrassed and your eyes promise sincerity in every action. I barely hear the words that come out of my own mouth since my ears are too busy trying to hear your thoughts.

In my head, you are an old-fashioned romantic.

In my head, those love songs you play on your guitar are all silently directed to me. The way you whisper along with the chords makes my heart race. When I catch myself staring at you, I know I haven't made any of this up. I wonder how perfectly my hand must fit the contours of yours. I know our musical hearts are drumming out the same rhythm, already in synch with each other. I try not to let my face betray the way I feel.

In my head, my coy smiles mystify you and my eyes capture your attention. My laughter must compliment your humor and beg you to realize how I understand you.

In my head, you don't care that I'm insane and energetic. Our seven AM conversations over the first round of pancakes are the best way to start your day. When we're the only insomniacs awake, I think of the innocentway that you have no idea I spent four hours dreaming of you.

In my head, I tell you exactly how I feel. But I never see how you react. You never answer because I can never form the words. I lock my hands on my legs or my plate to stop them from reaching out for you. I study the tablecloth or the deck of cards on the table to avoid your fearless eyes. My face will spill all of my secrets. My eyes will beg fro your love, my cheeks will turn a valentine pink and you'll smile because I'm so embarrassed. Your smile will cause my locked lips to open and suddenly I'll be defenseless. My emotions will dance naked in front of you for everyone to see. I don't wan't to imagine how you'll react, but I do... all the times we're quietly near each other, I wonder what will happen if I told you then.

In my head, you might wonder why I even try. You're wonderful, and I'm a bumbling, awkward girl. You don't realize when I ask you if you need a hand and you say... "no"... how much that digs through my naive heart. Of course you don't love me. In my dreams, though, you agree completely and I lose control. Gravity can't hold me down for the way you make me feel. I'm flying, elated. And you're smiling that smile that always brings out the best in me. Of course you feel the same way, because I always knew we would be perfect together.

In my head, you'll teach me confidence. You'll prove to me that I can tell you anything and you'll understand. You won't judge me for being irrational and saying things at the wrong time. That's it. You, perfect you, are waiting for the right time. The absolute perfect moment. You don't realize how when I'm around you, that's all I think about... you finding the perfect moment to grant my every wish. Every eyelash, every candle, every four-leaf clover, lucky penny, 11:11, I wish for you to wake up and remember me. To have that mind-blowing revelation of how much you miss me when I'm not around.

In my head, I never have to wait. I'm Sleeping Beauty, destined for her unspoken wish to be granted. When your name appears on my cell phone screen, my head rushes and my heart skids. I know you're thinking of me, at least in the moment it took you to send that message. You never keep me waiting for a reply and you never make me wonder if I said the wrong thing. In this way, I am perfect with you. I can do no wrong when you are anywhere around me.

In my head, this is why we need each other. I need you and you... need me? Need my laughter, my charisma, my endlessly embarrassing entertainment? You would miss my awkwardness, my blush...

In my head, everything is too simple.

In my head, I imagine us to be perfect, to be lovely and dreamy and totally in love. But maybe, in your head, I'm just another girl. In your head, I have an annoying laugh and bad skin and a gross obsession with you. In your head, maybe I'm like a leech, just enjoying myself at your expense. And every time the doubt of how you think of me crosses my brain, my heart thuds emptily in my hollow chest and the blood drains from my face. Every time I hear the doubt, I drop my eyes to the tablecloth and twiddle my thumbs. I force myself to swallow my feeble proclamation of how I feel and try to continue like nothing happened. Like I'm not dying because of the heat that consumes me when your arm brushes mine or our knees accidentally bump. You live in my head. I cannot see you or touch you,

but in my head, you're mine.


	2. Happy birthday

January 28th, 2010

Happy birthday.

I hate you. Boy, I hate everything about you and everything you do to me.

The way you stare at me makes me feel like you are constantly judging me: my habits and appearance constatnly under supervision and scrutinization. Yet, you don't really care about me at all. I left for two and a half hours and found you in the same place, barely realizing I had even gone in the first place. You are too ignorant to the way you treat me. I feel the heat grow behind my eyes when you so blatantly ignore me.

I hate how you're not as beautiful as the other guys I waste my time with. I'm vain and try to impress you, but you continue to remain unimpressed and unimpressive. I don't hate you because you're not sexy, I het you because it doesn't matter to you. I don't matter to you. I could strip off all my clothes and you still wouldn't notice me at all. You would continue to judge me no matter what I did because you cannot find interest in who I am.

You're sometimes awkward and you know it. You know when I'm uncomfortable and you must know it's because of ou. I hate how you keep all that distance between us. What do I have to do to get a hug from you? I offered my hand and you refused me. Do I disgust you so? What do you want from me? What would you do if I died tomorrow, committed suicide because I loved you so much and you refuse to love me and I hated you so much that I ended my life? Or what if I contracted a deadly illness? Is all you can say so impersonal as "aww sorry" or is there more to you that you hide from me?

_HELP ME OUT  
_Why am I writing all these lies? I cannot convince myself that I don't love you. I have a crush on you. I can't evern write your name, but I do know I have a crush on you. I could never ever tell you this. I keep it inside and try to hide it. It would be ridiculous to believe you could feel the same way. You're not obsessive and crazy like me. So why do I feel like this? I could write another five pages about why I love you. I won't. It's been siz motnhs since I've seen you. There's another six months until I see you again. Believe me though, I'm counting the days.


	3. Theories

January 31st, 2010

What does any of it mean anyways? Is the face that I crave your company just because we connect well and this is my withdrawal symptom? I choose to define it as 'I like you.' I have never had a boyfriend, but I have chosen to define many boys as my 'crushes' but what does it mean? Do you believe in finding your _soul mate_? Do you believe in love at first sight? Do you even believe in love? I want to know the feeling that all the romantic movies try to convey: that feeling of immense passion. A Romeo and JUliet story, a fairy tale, a Big Fat Greek Wedding. Is it true? I want it. I'm too eager to find that person who I would do absolutely anything for and never feel it. I wonder if I'mr eally a half of a whole sometimes. I'd like to think I'm a whole by myself, but does it really work that way? I need my parents, I need my friends... will I find someone else that I cannot, absolutely cannot, live without?

My old Spanish teacher told me that he thought every person in the world had a few people in the rest of the world who could be their soul mates. He said who you found would all depend on what paths you chose in life, since he didn't believe that the future is written in stone. Do you? Do you believe in destiny, in fate? That everyone has a predetermined reason to be living on the earth in the first place? But, if I've got options, then do I go after the one in Australia for sake of adventure, or do I walk a mile across town to find the local guy for sake of convenience?

Maybe it's even possible to make a sould mate out of anyone you could find on the street. That's probably my favorite, and, at the same time, least reasonable theory. Anyone could work perfectly... or maybe not perfectly, if perfect doesn't exist. But maybe I could simply "get along" or "deal with" anyone for the rest of my lifetime. I don't really want just anyone. Right now, I want you. I want to do whatever has to be done to make you realize what if means for me to mark you as the object of my pursuit at present. It means I think you're someone I want to try to make things work with. It's going to be a struggle, since we only see each other once a year, but I'd like to make you realize that I honestly think this is worth a shot.

I don't believe that one person could find a soul mate in someone who couldn't love them back. It's mutual, it should go both ways. "Love is a two-way street" as my best friend would say. I'm desperate for your opinion on this topic. I know you've had at least two relationships before and I also know you've been single for almost a year, which parallels the year you spent as a boyfriend to one lucky girl. I think she's lucky because she at least got to prove to herself that you wouldn't work for her. I haven't had that option.

I'm arguing constantly with myself: do I continue to watch and wait and wonder from afar, or do I risk trying to explain how I've fought this idea, struggled with the reality, and finally concluded the fact that I think I'm obsessed with you because I like you a lot. I just don't know you very well and I can't tell how you'd react.

Maybe I need to find some normal guy and ask him what he'd say to a long-distance friend if she said she liked him. I have decided if I'm going to tell you, it ought to be in person. But, on the other hand, I know I probably won't be able to speak the words. What would you do if I sent it in a text message? A private email? Sent it on a piece of flair? How would you think of me? I know it's a heard decision to try to like someone three time zones and over three thousand miles away.

I crave to hear someone that's not a girl and not related to me tell me that they love me. Currently, I want that person to be a few inches taller than me, wear black converse with red laces, have dark brown shaggy hair, blue eyes, play guitar and drums and keyboard, want to be a lawyer, go to a private school, and at least know that I exist. It's a lot to ask. Which is why I haven't asked it yet, but I need to know, hypothetically, that if I ever get the courage to tell you I like you that you could give me a moment's cheer at least, before you ruin my hopes.

Could you? Would you?


	4. Haikus

February 1st, 2010

Love haikus for you.

I'm Cinderella  
Happily ever after...  
Be my prince charming

Whenever you're here  
All I can see is your eyes  
So don't ever leave

Love songs that I hear  
Playing on the radio  
Remind me of you

Please do not judge me  
Because my heart is fragile  
...I think I love you

Do you like me back?  
Does my name spark memories?  
Will you break my heart?

I'm thinking of you  
Do you think of me sometimes?  
...'Cause I wish you would.

It's been quite some time  
Since we last saw each other  
I'm still holding on

In my frequent dreams  
I love you and you love me  
That's why they're called dreams

I can't let you go  
You're constantly on my mind  
I'm far too obsessed

I might never tell  
Just keep this as my secret...  
I would regret that.


	5. This is me

February 2nd, 2010

My (love) life story (abridged version)

I was born at 11:45 AM on May 22nd in a hospital in Boston. My family lived in the south end across the street from a forgotten, ghetto playgroud. We moved to a nicer suburb when I was just two years old. One year later, I started school at the age of three. I went to a Montessori school two blocks away from my house. My very first friend was Juliana. In the trhee years I spent in Primary 3 (a classroom for kids in pre-kindergarten, kindergarten, and pre-school), I developed a reputation. I would laugh at POSITIVELY EVERYTHING... and occasionally I snorted when I laughed. The boys in my class, including Eshaan, Aiden, Varun, Gabe, and Fergus all did their best to make me laugh the hardest -- it was some kind of amusing daily contest. I harbored a crush on Aiden until he moved away. I remember sending him an invitation to my birthday party, but her never RSVPd. Days after my party, I realized I would probably never ever see or hear from hat boy again.

When I was six years old, I moved up to Junior 1A and started first grade. Juliana was in Junior 1B. But I was still with Gabe from Primary 3 and his tomboy friend Ali. I enjoyed Gabe, although I ended up marrying Bobby, a cute second grader who was in all of the "advanced" spelling and math sections with me. Bobby left the school after that year. A younger boy, Ajani, used to chase me around during gym class (pretty cliche, right?). I remember chasin him back once, and catching him. I held him pinned against the wall until I realized that, by the laws of elementary school romance, I was supposed to kiss him. Except that was gross and I actually didn't want to kiss Ajani.

Later that year, I decided I like Johannes. He was fairly cute, blond hair and blue eyes, although I didn't talk to him much because he was in Junior 1B. By the time I graduated up to Junior 2 for fourth grade, nearly all of the boys I had liked or been friend with left the school. Katie and I both liked Nathan, although I only competed for him to pretend I was interested in any of the remaining boys and so that she couldn't brag about having a boyfriend before I did. Jake bothered my sister at the picnic lunches and stuff, and I pretended that he bothered me, too, even though I could care less about Jake. I think Krishna and Julian both liked me, but I didn't like either of them. For a day, I sort of liked Evan, but he was obsessed with bugs.

In fifth grade, I started going to a different private school, all-girls.

In sixth grade, I rediscovered my small crush on Johannes at a skating party at his school. Since then, he hasn't spoken to me (and he rejected my friend request on facebook).

In seventh grade, my friends and I were able to attend dances. At several different dances, I encountered Johannes' older brother. I liked him for the sake of being able to dance with a boy who I could pretend I knew. I think I over obsessed about him at every single dance.

In the spring, I worked tech for the school musical. Before the play, the entire seventh grade from my school spent a day at the boys' school known as "druggie day." Cheryl and I started to obsess over a boy named Edward (haha). Edward was playing the role of one of the plants in the musical **Little Shop of Horrors**. Watching from afar, I obsessed over him and admired him.

That summer I met Andrew for the first time, the much-loved boy who my cousin had a ginormous crush on. My first impression of him was sub-standard. He seemed much older (although he was only a year older than I), teenage-ier, darker... but eventually I got used to him.

Through eighth grade fall, I continued to obsess over Edward. Until Spring. I became anxious to see Andrew again when I found out that Edward was more average than I remembered him to be (average looks, average humor, average intelligence, below-average interest in meeting an all-too-willing girl). During the rehearsals for the musical **Once on This Island** I kind of decided to like Mark, only to have a relief from y friend Sonia's infatuation with her boyfriend (also from the musical) Mudit. Mark proved to be a bad candidate for my affections, so with the weeks of school left, I continued to make a list of reasons to like Andrew.

My summer schedule was jam-packed. I went to a camp in Florida and resisted my roommate's badgering me about my new friend Joey. Joey and I (along with one of the other girls who I didn't really like) were the only ones going into high school. He was cute and fun and enjoyable to play with. On Wednesday of the week-long camp I cracked and let myself fall for him, although partially because he reminded me of Andrew with his shaggy dark hair and black converse. Alas, the camp ended and I eventually headed out to see my cousin... and Andrew.

Temporarily forgetting Joey and Mark, I had to reprioritize my time with Andrew in order to set up a real friendship. I knew I liked him. Only I also knew my cousin probably wouldn't be too pleased if she knew that.

I spent the fall of ninthe grade choosing Joey over Andrew... and then the winter forgetting Joey and ultimately obsessing over Andrew.

Until next time... (to be continued)


	6. Drama

February 4th, 2010

The life of a stereotypical teenage girl is full of drama and mood swings. Average me basically fits this stereotype, except I'm more reflectively emotional and physically passe. From my journals, I know I haven't always been this way. I used to be a little too cheesy, and merely stated facts or insignificant details when writing.

I tend to the quieter side unless I'm with my absolute best friends. That doesn't include you. However you may think of me, I will add to it that I am relatively calm around you, and the only reason you have to think of me as a psychopath is because my emotions were spiralling out of control when you first talked to me that my brain was physically unable to perform basic tasks like breathing, talking normally, paying attention to my surroundings, and walking over flat surfaces without falling on my face. You should have realized that I am somewhat more coordinated that that. You should also know that I overanalyzed everything you did. I still do.

What were you thinking when I was standing in that stupid inflatable kayak while you were sitting in front of me, looking up?

Did you -like- the long in my status because you enjoy the music or because you knew it was about you and were agreeing to it?

Maybe only one out of every scenario for every moment is actually logical. You thought I was bizarre for standing up, no doubt making things awkward for you by forcing you to look at my legs or up my swimsuit, but I didn't mean to do that. I bet you probably confirmed your hypothesis when I sat back down without jumping out into the water. I was going to jump out, actually, but I realized I would have had to fight to get my spot across from you back, and I was worried that you wouldn't help me because you wouldn't want me.

It's all drama for me. Everything to do with someone who is under the ager of 25 and possesses a Y chromosome is drama. Nothing you want to hear about, of course, and nothing I will willingly tell you. I can't say how much I was looking forward to truth or dare last year. Because I knew it would come to me. I would say "truth". And someone (Stewart, of course) would ask me if I liked you. I would be sitting ideally agross from you, so I could easily avoid your cautionary glance at me. I had the answer to his question in my mouth since March. The answer was, of course, yes. I had decided that I wouldn't care what you said, or what anyone else said or did. I would say yes to the question that would inevitably come my way.

Only it never happened. And it's occurred to me now that maybe the question would be phrased differently. If I was asked "Do you like someone?" I could also play my 'yes' card. If they asked who, I would trip. I can't say your name. I can't. Not if you're there. If you left or something, I woul have a better chance of choking out those two syllables. Only what if I said the wrong syllables? Parker, Joey, Edward... what if? I know I would tell a lie if you were sitting right next to me. I imagined saying "Stewart knows" (because he did, he guessed it right on the money) and excusing myself to go brush my teeth or something. Drama, you see. I would expect Lauren or Olivia to follow me or maybe, in my really wild daydreams, you.

You woudl follow me and find out the bare truth. My deepest secret, the one I tried to keep as far back in my head as possible. It was all for the attention, for the drama in the way I would finally force myself to tell you. I'm counting on it again this year. I'm coming in with the same battle plan... as long as you don't have a girlfriend. I'm not getting involved in that kind of Drama. If you have a lucky, lucky girlfriend, or we don't get to play our truth or dare, then it's 358 more days to stay up at night with the thought of you and "if only" for one more year.

With new memories to write down over and over becoming more and more dramatice, more and more reason to convince myself to hang on even longer because you've got to be feeling it too... or that I should screw it all because I'm such a fool for you and there's no way you love me. It's all dejavu, whatever you want to believe that to mean. I know it's happened befor. It's like groundhog day. I'll keep re-living it until I get it right. I need a truth or dare game this year. And I need Stewart to still know that I like you and you not to say anything to ruin my hopes. I hope I won't be too obvioius, but when my hormones and emotions go apeshit when they recognize that it's YOU (HOLY SHIT IT'S YOU!!), I can't guarantee anything. Maybe I'll glomp you with too much zeal. I hope not, but only because I don't know what you'd do.

I _____ you.


	7. OBSESSED

Why are you constantly on my mind? Why does everything that happens to me remind me of you? Maybe it's my music that's the issue. Occasionally... no, actually fairly often, I am in the mood for "Andrew music" (crap, I wrote your name).

_Santeria_ (sublime) -- my status once that you commented on because your band had just learned to play it

Anything by Gin Blossoms -- because you said you liked that band. And _Follow You Down_ was your status multiple times

Anything by Nada Surf -- because you sang _Popular_ for a week straight the summer I first met you and your status a few days ago mentioned them.

All Star (smashmouth) -- because I learned it on drums (you play drums) and you liked it when I set it as my status

Viva la Vida (coldplay) -- because it was the epic song of the summer when I met you

Paint it Black (rolling stones) -- because it sounded awesome when you played it on guitar and I was like "hey, I know that song!" and you smiled

Kiss me (sixpence none the richer) -- because I couldn't help but think you were singing it to me

Anything by Taylor Swift -- because you once said you secretly liked her music (I liked her too, but I thought you probably didn't)

Anything by The Ramones -- because of that song you dedicated to me (_Merry Christmas I Don't Want to Fight No More_) that confused me for so long. I'm still confused.

Radio Nowhere -- because.

Anything else by Bruce Springsteen -- for the same reason as above. Only you would find the radio station that plays only Bruce 24/7

Anything by The Who -- because I know that Lauren started liking them when she liked you because you liked them (make sense?)

Ain't Nothing But a Good Time (Poison) -- because I saw lyrics to it on your profile

Anything by U2 -- because you fell for my lie about playing music trivia when I randomly texted you to ask the guitarist's name (it's The Edge. thanks!)

Anything by the Beatles -- because I know you and your friends dressed up like them for Halloween once

Don't Stop Believing (Journey) -- because we talked about it

1985 (Bowling for Soup) -- because you, unlike Lauren, know the song (but who else doesn't?)

Basically, this category of music includes everything we've ever mentioned together, seen on each other's profiles, you've played on guitar, or anything I listen to that I can hear you singing to me. And that's only music. My clothes, my earrings (the silly guitar ones that you saved when I was being an idiot on the stupid inflatable kayak) and my wonderful towel that went flying off the bridge tied to my neck when we had that genius idea. Every week in percussion/guitar class, I think of you and wonder how you would think of me if you saw me in class. What if you knew one of the reasons I try so hard in class is to hope to impress you? How good do I have to get at guitar before I'm confident that I can request to play a song at karaoke night and not feel like I'm going to make an idiot of myself? What if, for some odd reason, I went over to your house and you invited me to play drums? What would I do?

All for You (sister hazel) -- because it is

Falling for you (Colbie Caillat) -- because I am

Two is Better Than One (Boys like Girls/Taylor Swift) -- because I'm going to prove to you that it is.


	8. Now you know

February 6th, 2010

Now you know. At least, you think you do. You think you understand that I like you, but maybe you also think that I'm willing to put that aside. Of course you didn't jump to say "Me, too" or anything, which dampened my wild hopes that we would have a story worthy of a trashy romance novel. But maybe I'm still arguing with myself. If I had terminated my thoughts already, I would have ended this with the first sentence. Now you know.

I lied to you, though. I knew what my sister wrote and I gave her my phone promptly when she said she would tell you that I liked you so I wouldn't have to. I even showed her how to spell my name correctly using the stupid T9 setting that my texting is set to because you always type gramatically correct, correctly spelled... but whatever. I lied and played dumb so that I would have the option to abandon ship. My backup plan was to say that she had been mad at me and sent that message to several unlucky guys, one of whom asked me out (supposedly Parker) and the other who ignored the message entirely, just like he ignores me (supposedly Joey). But guess what? I couldn't do it. I had already set up a few lies to get to the point where I could confess. And then I did. And the only thing I regret is not asking you what you thought. I kind of inferred that you didn't reciprocate, but I wasn't sure. Maybe my confession was a shock to your system.

I've gone back to the drawing board, too. I still think I like you, although if it would save our friendship, I would try to stop it. I would take a rubberband to school and snap it on my wrist every time I thin kof you. It'll the like "The Game" (shit, I lost the game) except I won't announce it to the entire room I happen to be in. I still have a hope that you do like me, or you are at least willing to let this go by. But does it hurt to know? Did I screw up completely?

Three hours after you received the guilty message in your inbox, your status changed to something about how your week just got even worse. That's when the pit of my stomach fell out. It's incredibly hard to tell emotions over texts. While I thought we were having a nice conversation afterwards, maybe I should have just shut up and turned my phone off and bean the excruciating task of removial all memories of you from my head. I don't have to go out to Orcas, and quite frankly, if you wouldn't be talking to me, then I don't really want to.

Perhaps it's better this way. I'll be cautious this summer and work on not doing anything too stupid. I'll be friendly, not freakishly obsessed, and I'll try to act normal ("try" being the operative word here, no promises). At least, that's my plan right now. There's hardly less than six months until I see you again. I can't believe it's only been half a year since I've seen you and I still have another half to go. I cracked early, then. Which is also probably for my benefit. We have awhile to collect ourselves. I hope six months is enough for me to straighten things out. At least putting them in words, away from my head, allows my thoughts to proceed further.

And so far... well, I've probably gotten farther than I would have had I not started writing about you. If I didn't sort these things out, I probably wouldn't have explained it to my sister, and probably wouldn't have thrown myself into this mess by showing her how to send that text. I thought I would get rid of all my regret if I told you during truth or dare. But relying on that situation was bound to get me in trouble. Maybe, with all of the boys' eyes on me, plus Lauren and Olivia's, I would have lied anyways. I would hav said Parker, or continued to deny to Stewart that I like you.

So I did the deed that I guess kind of had to be done. I tried to keep my thoughts in my head, but they leaked onto paper, into my sister's head, onto a text message and into your inbox. I now have to struggle with a way to ask you if I hurt you without hurting you again. Was that awful, heart wrenching status about that message? How do I ask you if you're genuinely okay and prove to you that I'm willing to move on if you can't deal with my frivolous little heart? I would be sad if you couldn't, I admit it, but as long as we could salvage some sort of comfortable frienship, I would be able to cope with myself better.

Next time I see you, I won't have this disgusting ache. And I'm not just doing this for you. Maybe you wanted to know. I'm an open book to you know.


	9. Textiquette

February 10th, 2010

It's been a few days. I think I remembered finally that I have a life outside of you. It occurred to me that I think I've had this same kind of recession before. Right after we left Orcas, I felt the need to tell you absolutely everything all the time... I even got dangerously close to telling you my favorite secret then. And eventually I cured myself of you for awhile. I switched back to Joey (although I never told him everything because he rarely responded) for awhile because he had just started "talking" to me after two months of ignoring my messages. I found out, though, that it was pointless and unrewarding to go through a month of silly infatuation and anticipation only to get let down by his serious lack of interest in holding worthwhile conversations. I gave up on him.

And then I remembered you. Because if I sent you a message, you would always answer it. YOu never waste time with meaningless chainmail that says the nicest things but means absolutely nothing. That was something that tripped me up with Joey. He would send adorable chain messages, and I would send equally cute ones back. Only he was the only person I ever sent them to. And I tricked myself into thinking that he did the same thing, that he actually believed in those cheesy words. Yeah right.

I was planning on having to convince my parents to let me go to Sea World camp again to find him, or drive me to New Jersey over holiday vacation so I could see him again. And then we would go to Busch Gardens together, for another week of each other's company. We would break all the camp rules about boy/girl mingling and everyone would be jealous of us. See where this is going? I even talked it through with my sister and managed to convince myself that the 4 1/2 hours in a car was a lot less of a long-distance relationship than 4 hours on a plane. I don't know if I'm right, but I don't really think so anymore.

Do you know how much I love it when I control myself for long enough and don't really talk to you... only to have you send me a message to say hey because you haven't in awhile? Yeah. It means that at least once, I crossed your mind. Engough of a lingering thought of me to say to yourself "Oh, I haven't heard from her in awhile. I wonder what's up." And I love that feeling. The feeling of someone requesting conversation from me. Especially because it's you. And I want to know how you always have the perfect spanse of time between messages. You never leave me hanging for too long and you know exactly how long "awhile" is so when you send the kind of message I love most, it's been the right amount of time since our last conversation. Can I learn that from somewhere?

I've had five days to recover from my risque text that I made my sister send. Is that long enough to wait to ask you what it meant to you? I can't wait too long, or I feel like I'd be scratching open an old wound. But I don't want to sent it too soon or I'll just make it all worse. I send it now or I wait another week. I have a snow day today, in case you wanted to know what's up.

That's the other thing. Is it more polite to ask you how you're doing first and then request and answer to my other question? I could probably add some humor to it that way. Or I could just get it over with and tell you the whole truth right off the bat. I think I kind of like the first option better, but I don't really know. I'll look up a Ms. Manners thing to see if she has anything to say about texting etiquette.

My heart is racing a bit right now, giving my decision more urgency than necessary. I have to at least wait until around 6:00 east coast time so you're not in school. Even thought I personally love having a message waiting until school gets out that I received in second block, I don't think I have enough sanity left to wait a six hours for a reply. I would probably lose my mind.


	10. Something else

February 11th, 2010

So I sent it 27 hours ago. I figure if you haven't replied by now, you aren't going to. Here goes plan B: I just don't talk to you for a long time. The next time I will allow myself to anticipate having a conversation with you will be around my birthday. By then it'll probably be far too late to ask about that message, but I guess as long as you talk to me, it'll be okay. As long as you don't arrive at Orcas with the thought that I "REALLY like you" in your head. I like you. I like your sense of humor, I like your music, I like basically everything about you. But, I think to try to keep my resolution to wait for you, I will have to change the subject of my rants. If I can't text you to tell you absolutely everything, I have to have some kind of outlet. So, starting now, you aren't a real person. You are my diary. Okay? Okay. Kapeesh? Kaposh.

Today... well, star with yesterday. We had forecasts for over a foot of snow! Naturally, basically every school in every state around here closed. By around 12:00 in the afternoon, only a few snowflakes had fallen. I was beginning to get a little disappointed because I was running out of daylight hours to build another snoctopus (snow octopus. Try it some time). I wrtoe in my fantasy story book for awhile, but then it started raining. Eventually by 6:00 or so, we had about a quarter of an inch of snow... nowhere near a foot. February 10th 2010 will forever be known as the mega fail snowday.

Today (because fail was all that happened yesterday), we were supposed to have an assembly preaching on the history of our school in preparation for next year's celebration of the 125th anniversary. Several minutes into the principal's speech, one of the art teachers walked on stage in a corn costume that had "not a banana" written on the back. She announced a faculty talent show through a "corny" knock-knock joke.

The first act was my old Spanish teacher. He (yes, he. As in of the male gender) was wearing a red sequined dress with a red wig and he sang a re-written but not transposed version of a Billie Holliday song. I kind of always loved him, but this on top of him wearing a tutu to school for no reason and dressing up as a remarkably convincing fairy princess (tiara, hair extensions, feather boa, make up, high heels, wand and dress for the last day of school last year) just officially make him my favorite teacher. Ever.

The corny jokes came back between all of the following acts:  
-- a few teachers sang a randition of "drive my car" by the Beatles  
-- two english teachers did a baseball joke where "who plays first base, what plays second, and I don't know plays third. Tomorrow is the pitcher, today is the catcher, and I don't care is the shortstop"  
-- the history department did a history rap with was completely disastrous and incredibly hilarious.  
-- then they were a jet bomber attacking German planes until they were surrounded by enemy aircrafts! Fire on the left engine! And the poor noob teacher got soaked with a bucket of water.  
-- the science teachers did a "magic" show  
-- one of the gym teachers did one of her original, spiritual hip-hop dances  
-- my old music teacher did ballroom dancing  
-- my history and english teachers did an opera duet that was one of the only truly amazing displays of real talent  
-- then... I can't even begin to put this in words. It started out with interviews of teacher to ask them what they thought the "Beyoncettes" were. Mr. S said he thought they were the name of the architectural group working on the school's courtyard. His opinion was that they should _put a ring on it_. Cue 4 male teachers to come out wearing tights, short dresses, and ridiculous wigs to do the dance to Single ladies by Beyonce. I am scarred for life.

Well, I have to go. A song came on that reminds me of... you.


	11. Toyota, move me FORWARD

February 15th, 2010

It's been four days since I resolved not to write about my feelings about you at least until you sent me a message first. It's been three days since i realized I would break this resolution before a week had passed. I generally suck at keeping resolutions, especially ones that require a bit of control. It wasn't totally my fault.

Lauren was telling me a story about something or other, and I rmember she said that if you were [at the rehearsal dinner with us for my uncle's wedding on valentine's day], you'd most likely be in a corner playing guitar (don't take that the wrong way, you playing guitar is a mad sexy picture). This was in response to my sarcastic comment that I should serenade everyone on the little upright piano next to the snack table. That was how you first entered this conversation (I forgot to mention that I had already shown her the message my sister sent you under the same lie that I told you).

She told me how she always took her frustration out on some guy or another, which currently was Ben, but it had been you. She tole me she had been yelling at you (and that you're an awful person to get mad at because all you say is "I'm sorry" even if it's clearly not your fault) for completely ignoring her at Orcas and whatever. At this point, I apologized for being a bitch. I assume you didn't purposefully exclude her from our conversations, but I fully realized I was hogging your attention and making excuses for my behavior. In short, I knew I was being an absolute asshole and at least hoped you didn't mind. And whatever Lauren said next didn't really process except for the part where you said "sorry, it's not my fault that I had a crush on your cousin."

And my first reaction was ... why the hell would you tell her that? You'd tell me first, right? And THEN I freaked out (in my head, of course). YOU liked ME. You, wonderful, musical, witty, hilarious, talented, genuis, awesome guy liked me, awkward, acne-faced, spaztic, obnoxious, talkative, shy weirdo. Yeah, what? I had to reevaluate everything. I found even more questions that I'll never ever ask you. I don't know when you told Lauren that, but I know that you knew you liked me then. Did you decide that before, during, or after those magical three or four days on Orcas? Do you still? Is that why you're single? Were you smart and did you get over me a long time ago? And then did I screw it all up when I *finally* told you I liked you *back*? Do you feel as shitty as I do that we both liked each other and never mentioned it? Had you guessed that I liked you? Do you think that I know you (at least for awhile) like(d) me? Why didn't you tell me? Did you know it wouldn't work (therefore proving you actually have judgment in things like this, unlike me)? What's going to happen this year?

Like always, I have to try to make up the most probable explanations for everything since I won't (at least for six months) know any of the answers.

First conclusion: you probably don't realize how freakin awesome you are. I probably don't give myself quite enough credit, but then again, I've spent more than half a year realizing how vain and stupid it is to think I could have any boy I wanted hanging on strings like my own little puppet.  
Second conclusion: You can't read my mind, or you have better judgement and control than even I can give you credit for. If you knew I liked you, then you would have told me something. Or we were both thinking the same thing (which, in my world, only proves how perfect we would be if we ever got around ths problem... all these problems).

But, rather than try to re-rework the past in my head right now, I'm thinking of that ________ day in July when I'll see you again. I'll be armed.

But... what would you do if we were alone for a moment and I threw my arms around your neck, stood on my toes to be at your eye level, and stared/gazed into your eyes? Or what if I just hugged you... a smidge too tightly and a moment too long? I'm thinking the second one's too subtle (meaning something I might actually do, like always choosing a seat next to you if it's not totally uncalled for).

What if we were sitting around the campfire and I a) put my hand over yours b) leaned my head over onto your shoulder c) moved my leg so it pressed against yours? Option B is the most risque considering you could just move otherwise, and apologize like you always do. I want to be forward. Too forward for you to ignore.

If we were hiking, what would you do if I grabbed your hand and held onto it? So I'm most likely not doing any of this, but it's intruiging.

Would you even still like me if I were this precocious? Is it completely against your "no contact" policy to have a romantically obsessed/hopeless girlfriend/fling/awkward-complicated-relationship/something/acquaintance.

What if someone dared me to tell my deepest, darkest secret? Could I ever show you this story? No. The answer is definitely no. I'd have to bribe someone else to do it for me (again) and wait in utter pain for you to say something. Six months is a long time. Potentially, something could happen between now and then that would transform all of thses words into meaningless scribbles and wasted time.

I hope you realize the reason I had to break my resolution. Notice how I'm not going to say this was a single exception and I'll get a fresh start tomorrow. I'm glad you like(d) me.


	12. Chchchchanges

February 19th, 2010

You know I like you, and by now you've had about a week and a half to mull that over. Now do you think you know everything about me? Don't. I won't even hope that I've come anywhere near to figuring you out. You're smart (you said you got good grades on your formspring), musical (you record all kinds of music by yourself), not very athletic (but muscular, and I know you do track), witty, conversational, friendly, independent, and you want to be a lawyer. One of your bands is called the Iron Box Trio, you like rock and folk music (and sometimes a bit of country) but you know everything about sweet bands, you are freaking amazing at guitar, probably at drums to, you can also play keyboard and sing. I know your family. You can ski, and you do some theater/acting at school. How much else is there? What's your favorite food? Waffles or pancakes? What's your biggest secret? How do you act around your closest friends? What's your favorite sport to play/watch?

But what do you know about me? I could give you ("you") a list of things you might possibly have guessed, but I don't think I've told you  
-- I love to dress up (fancy clothes, fussy hairstyles, high heels)  
-- I act absolutely insane around my best friends  
-- I tend to swing between moods (not bipolar, just capable of going from crying over something stupid to crying because I'm laughing so hard in a matter of seconds)  
-- I love math and english  
-- my favorite colors are purple and green, especially when paired with blue/brown/pink  
-- I love awesome, bad-ass, off-brand clothes  
-- I usually like to be a little awkward (maybe I don't really like it, but it's kind of a habit)  
-- I absolutely love my cousin

Oh screw it. I don't know what you want to know about me. I'm trying to make myself appealing to you. I'm musical, too. I like the foods you like. I can be witty, too. I like to do what you do. I'm taking guitar and drums and I honestly don't remember if I chose that class with you in mind or not. What else do I have to do? I'll download the music you like and listen to it all until it's engraved in my brain. I'm new to this whole idea of liking somone who likes me back.

(correction: I don't actually know if you like me back. I know there was a point in time where we both liked each other at the same time).

I know I'm going to have changed from last year. No more obnoxious, bumbling weirdo who walks backwards into road signs and randomly falls over (oh damn. those really bruise my ego to think about. what the hell must have been running through your head as you watched me trip all over myself?) What if you don't like the changes I've made to myself? The new bikini I got now that I feel pretty confident about my body, flat chest and huge thighs and all. The girl you liked was the weirdo. Do I have to go through that again to make you still like me? Or would you get tired of the same silly, ridiculous kid tripping over her own feet all the time?

I feel like I'm going to need to prove somehow that I'm worthy of your affection. I don't want to try to show off my guitar "skills" and make a fool of myself. I cannot imagine toughing your guitar at all. I had a dream that Nater gave me his guitar and told me to play something. All I knew was Smoke on the Water and a few chords. I sat there with the guitar in my lap and tried to make excuses for myself, but Nate kept telling me to play something.

I find myself back in the awkward position last year when I went back to the camp site to get snack money and found you there. You, who Lauren, Olivia and I were waiting for back at the swimming area. I had no idea what to say to you. I tried to look cute and flirty, but nothing remotely intelligent came out of my mouth. It was pretty bad. I still need to know if you still like me even after a year of not seeing me at all. I still, still, still like you a good bit even after two years and only having seen you for a few days. Get it?


	13. WWAD?

February 22nd, 2010

Today on the bus going to my hockey game, I had a thought cross my mind about WWAD? What would ... you ... do if you were sitting next to me on that bus? Had you gotten there first, would I have sat next to you or in another seat around you? Had I gotten there first, would you sit with me? What would you want to talk about -- the scenery, life, hockey, music, school, my team, summer, or something else? Assuming I could actually form coherent syllables should you be sitting next to me on a bus full of girls.

It's happened before. I know I've considered what would happen if I hosted you for a day at my school. What day? Not monday, I have an hour spanish class and you take french. Tuesday? Preferably not wednesday because you'd see me fail at guitar, although maybe you could beast for awhile and my teacher would ask you to tell the class all about your musical geniusness. You would most likely not want to come on a Thursday because I have too many frees. While you might enjoy going off campus for lunch, I think you'd see too much of my crazy friends and think I was a complete loser for hanging out with them. And fridays are fine, if you want to go to my guitar class and if you like history. I would certainly be the talk of the school if I brought a boy around all day... one that didn't go to one of our brother schools.

And I always count on you staying close to me, like you couldn't make your own friends. I always count on you being indimidated by 200 girls you don't know and my ability to fend them off. If you could survive a massacre from the kids at my school and not judge me on my social environment, I would truly love you forever. How do I have the right to think you wouldn't converse with girls I'm not friends with? How do I know you wouldn't have a date with one of the really bitchy, rich kids in ten minutes? I don't. I can only keep it all in my head.

You -- why would you ever come here? Why would you visit me here? Why would you spend a day visiting me here at my school? Why would my school ever let you spend a day with me? And yet none of it slows me down. You are constantly on my mind. Have I said that before? I am freakishly obsessed with you. I assume every other girl at my school would be, too. Lauren seems to think that everyone who sets eyes on you falls in love with you, and I have no evidence to date to prove that wrong.

But then... what do you think would happen if I went to your school? What if I split a year? Spent a semester at my school and one at yours? What if I made the wrong friends? What if I (unlikely) fell for another guy? What if you knew he was a jerk? Or, crazy for a moment, what if I stayed at your house? Or vice versa, you at mine? I prefer me at yours, I guess, bcause you don't want to deal with my family, my pets, my schedule... moreover, I don't want to alter my lifestyle to save myself embarrassment.

If I went to your house, how do you spend your life? Obviously, not like I spend mine: pining over memories and thoughts of you. I wan to really know your family, your dinner table discussions. All I know is that you have two little siblings, one you like and one who annoys you, and your parents are doctors. Yet you hardly know scratch about my family. Maybe you've seen pictures, maybe you saw the video of my dad on Youtube, but you haven't met them. You know my mom is my aunt's twin, but you don't know how different they are. My familly is conservative, republican. I know you lean "slightly" to the other side, but that's somethiing that's never been discussed between us. Maybe you would absolutely charm my parents (and as long as my sister doesn't go nuts over you or you to her, I still love you) and convince them that there's good reasons why your name is constantly on my mind.

I had a dream that you told me you liked me. In my dream, I went to sleep searching for the right response. "What took you so long?" "Oh, man, call me!" "I really like you, too. Thanks." "Are you serious?" "Awww, I'm... wow" and whatnot. I was so, so, so happy. Yet my dream self managed to fall asleep, and when I woke up, it wasn't real. You still might as well not like me, even though I know you at least used to.

PS: you're a total idiot if you think I won't become a fan of your band. I haven't listened to any of your music yet. Even if it sucked, I'd still love you for it all.


	14. Formstalk

March 6th, 2010

See how long it's been since I've written? Definitely an accomplishment. Although maybe it's because I've gotten a few answers. Nothing revolutionary, but I know you like someone with blond-ish hair. And I can get to know you somewhat better via wonderful formspring. I have a few random questions, like what's your favorite sport, jeans or sweatpants, and anythin else I could ask without giving myself away. But rewind a second. There's someone trying to do the dirty job of figuring out who you like. It's beginning to occur to me that *perhaps* you might think that person is me. Buy anonymity is at my advantage here. I could be that person, or pretend to be, and you wouldn't know.

I know you're not going to the spring dance at your school. You're not asking the girl you like for more complicated reasons. 3 or 4 weeks ago, you didn't think she liked you back. You also haven't told her you like her because it's complicatede. You might not have my name in your head when you write these responses, but I'm desperate to know if it could be me. I'm waiting for the big red flag that automatically rules me out. My biggest problem right now is that you have a different reason for why you're not asking her to the dance than say, "she lives on the other side of the country." You said something about being complicated and her probably not wanting you to discuss this in detail on the internet, plus it's expensive.

I know you haven't said anything that would make it obvious she doesn't go to school with you. I wonder if you think I might be following your formspring (which I am). Would that change some of your answers? It changes mine, but maybe that's because I'm afraid you'll see how I act around my friends at home and judge me differently. I try to use not-chat-speak, but then I see that you don't always capitalize everything, whcih makes me feel like I'm trying too hard.

What if I let you talk to Lauren and didn't talk much unless you addressed me? Kind of how I act around most people I don't know very well. Would that give me and air of mystery? Would it intruige you to talk to me more because you know I'm very chatty with my friends? Or maybe it would backfire and you wouldn't have a second thought about me, but I would be stuck still in love with you and full of regrets for another whole year.

I'm starting Accutane soon. I have to get pregnancy tests every month for six months now. I'll still be taking it over the summer. On the bright side, I won't have to worry about breakouts and being all gross-skinned while we're swimming around. I can wear what I want and not feel gross. I know your mom's a dermatologist... I assme she's heard of it at least. If I've got to be popping pills over breakfast, I'm bracing myself for whatever awkward conversation that might strike up. Would that gross you out, or do medications and skin cease to gross you out? I feel like you most likely wouldn't be the one to ask what I was taking. You don't seem to be into other people's business.

I feel like I ask too many questions or talk too much when I'm texting you. It's kind of different in person, from what I can remember. You would always add another comment or story to something someone else said, and conversation could just flow without the necessity of asking questions. So that's why I like the fact that you have a formspring. All the questions I can't ask you in person I can ask over formspring. Theroretically.

I have to be careful, though, because whatever information I pick up from this anonymous website, I can't use when I'm talking to you. That would defeat the purpose of not sending you a message. I'm not sure I would really feel like I was getting to know you if you were replying because it was just another innocent question on a website designed for anonymous questioning.

So, in summary, I'm trying to self-medicate my inquiries that will never be answered directly by following you and hoping that person will ask some question that will confirm positive or negative whether I am the girl you like right now.


	15. Time flies

March 12th, 2010

Time flies. I just realized that the Accutane comes in cute little packages with a picture of a stick figure with a pregnant belly circled and crossed out like a no-smoking sign. Plus all the packaging (which is pretty extensive for a little pill) is enscribed with DO NOT GET PREGNANT and such all over it. It's not really a discreet little bottle, either. I have to rip up a bunch of cardboard and foil to get to each pill. Fun, right? Please don't ask about it. I don't think I could quite handle that conversation with you. And I'm talking to you now. I posted on your formspring (with my user info, which you already know since you were the second person to write on mine) and you replied :D which probably made my day.

And I have to be honest with myself, I saw that you were online one night and frantically had to post lyrics to a song you would know. I chose my current favorite Nada Surf song, Weightless. Of course that showed up in your news feed, so you liked it. Then two of my friends commented on it as well, also saluting Nada Surf. I hope that scores me extra points in your book for having friends with good taste in music.

My subconscious brain has somehow convinced itself that you told me that you like me (I think I've had that dream several times now). I don't know why, but every time I catch myself staring off into space (which I'm blaming on the Accutane since it's happening increasingly often since I started taking it), I'm thinking of us together. I think today I went off on a day dream of finding a summer job out in west and flying out for extended time. I spent time at your house (not with Lauren...) and we hugn out kind of like we saw each other every day. Yet, I could feel the difference. We were trading guitar songs (yeah, right) and it was really fun because you still loved me even though I wasn't so good at guitar. Would it be cocky of me to say that I'm pretty good at piano? I keep imagining Lauren backing me up to say that I'm beastly (which she's said before, at camp), but that might be unlikely. I imagine showing off for you with my Debussy and Canon in D. Is your family totally music-oriented? I feel like you all could make me feel a bit incompetent, or it could be fun. The more I think about it, the more my mind is convinced that it's going to happen.

Would you like it at my house? Would you mind that I have sugar-bomb cereal for breakfast? Do you like peanut butter and nutella sandwiches? Would you like my parents and my sister? Would you think my rabbit pretty damn hilarious? I kind of imagine us sitting together in my room, me holding my bunny and you playing with my guitar. You've seen my bulletin boards full of crazy pictures, the pictures of me from my Shakespeare play, all my stupid trophies and artwork... from where we are, we can hear first my sister playing harp (she's pretty good), and then my dad tinkering around with my fake book pieces on the piano (which you've already seen). We can hear them singing a duet right now, Jen's practicing for a church solo on monday. And you've already seen me practicing my slapshot in the backyard, since that's what I was doing when you arrived. It's not too bad, I guess :)

* * *

**_Author's note: If anyone's reading this story and likes it and wants to hear more, please review! I hope you like it and I hope the rambling isn't getting too monotonous... R&R!_**


	16. More random ranting

March 17th, 2010

Today was a good day. I'm on vacation, I had an entire day at home alone to do absolutely nothing. Because my stagnant mind always floats to you, I let it. I saw a funny quote you posted that showed up on my feed this morning that got you into my head in the first place. As you know by now, once you're in my head, you're rarely out of it. It's become fairly normal at this point, to the extent that I don't really notice it anymore, I just kind of accept the fact that everything I do relates to you in some way, shape, or form.

I designed a fitness routine for myself, since I am a failure at spring sports (especially lacrosse, which everyone says I like hockey. It's not. It's really not). I may have said this several times to you, somewhat annoyingly whiny-like, but you should realize that I am, by nature, a complete and total fat-ass. I would rather not do five laps of lunges in the hallway, or sixty sit-ups. I'd rather not go bike six miles only to come home and do sixty pushups. It's tiring, I hate that I can't always complete my goals, and I hate that I still don't have a six pack (not that I've been doing this for very long, or that I ever expect to have a legitimate six pack. I have what urban dictionary would call "stealth abs," ones hidden under a promiscuous layer of fat). I'm not overweight, "big-boned," "hefty," or even particularly muscular. I'm just self-deprecating occasionally. I try not to let myself believe that I'm attractive, even though occasionally I can be extremely vain. My fitness regiment is designed to keep my muscles in shape for upcoming hockey tryouts and perhaps continue into the summer so I can keep up with Lauren. Would you notice if I had nicely defined muscle in my legs and arms? A sweet set of abs (maybe a four-pack…) to go with my new bikini? While my goal short-term is to stay in shape for tryouts, my motivation is you. How could you resist a curvy, muscles girl? I wouldn't have to be the one always two steps behind because I'm running out of breath. This morning, I woke up and did my workout routine for you.

I had a $25 iTunes card and used it to buy more "Andrew music" (I love your name. It's so… perfect? It's a good name of someone to have a crush on. Much more loveable than, say, a Mark or an Edward. And not too cutesy, like a Joey). But it's music that I like and probably would have downloaded anyways.

I practiced my guitar, really drilling that B minor chord that's screwing me over. I kind of like the song because it's my most impressive to play (not that _I_ could impress _you_ on _guitar_, you guitar genius), but also so I can stay comfortably near the top in my class. I excel in the class because I really enjoy it and I hope you realize that even though I always obsessively talk about to you. I'm not forcing myself to play because I want to be like you and I want to slap you in the face to show you how similar we could be. Not at all. Even if you loved to sing, and singing was your favoritist thing ever ever ever, I don't believe I would join Chorale so I could sing and be just like you. I have limits.

I wrote in my story book, a fictional romance (my favorite genre of literature. What kinds of books do you read?) involving a boy and a girl who've known each other all their lives, experimenting with relationships. It's not about us. I've made that mistake before, basing a story off my own crush… even though this soap-opera story/diary about you is worthy of a trashy romance novel. Is there such a thing as a nonfiction trashy romance, or would I have to call it an autobiography? Either way, I doubt many people would read it. Just another one of _those_ stories, you know. It's always the same, isn't it?

I'm actually bored enough that I'm reading the dictionary. Yep. Do you like me a little bit nerdy? I'm a pretty big nerd, believe it or not. You kind of have to be to go to my school. I like it, though. I want to be an engineer and get a master's degree like my dad. I don't think he'd be very supportive of me if he know I was also aspiring to be the girlfriend of a musician studying law. Professional musicians and lawyers are pretty high up on his list of things he doesn't like. My dad's quite a character. He'll never come out west with me over the summer, though.

I remember last year you asked if any of my family would be coming to Orcas eventually. Do you want to meet them? Are you curious about my sister? Am I more mysterious this way? I liked how you remembered the name of my sister's hobby… LARPing (live action role playing, for those of you who don't know) and you asked about that as we were headed around the lake to go jump off the bridge.

I'm too excited to see you again, which must mean something's going to happen. I'll break a bone or twist my ankle and have to sit out from all the fun stuff (would you sit with me?). You'll hurt yourself and just not come. Plans will change. Something's going to get screwed up, like it always does when I get really really excited about something, and then it doesn't happen. I'm hoping I still see you, since I'm not sure if I could handle another 365 days without your face right in front of me and your witty voice. Don't do anything that might result in you getting hurt, okay?


End file.
